A Flame in The Dark
by fortheairwaves
Summary: A short one-shot on how I imagined Snowbaz's first kiss. Takes place after Natasha's Visit and Baz's return to Watford. Rated T for language and making out. Enjoy and review!
**This is just how I imagined their first kiss would've happened.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own Simon or Baz.**

 **SIMON**

"Baz?" My whisper is quiet, but it sounds deafening in the dark silence of our room. I'm praying that he's awake.

"What, Snow?" he replies, sounding(as usual) annoyed.

I sit up and look over at his still, blanket-covered figure. "There's something I need to tell you."

 **BAZ**

"There's something I need to tell you."

Even though I tell myself that Snow's 'something' can't possibly be a confession of love, my heart still leaps at the thought. Crowley, I'm head over heels for this boy.

"Well, what is it?" I sneer, keeping up my customary snarky façade.

Snow fidgets. "I saw your mum, Baz."

"What?!" The blatant show of interest is a mistake; Snow's words have just completely taken me by surprise. In fact, I don't even think about how disappointed I am that he didn't tell me that he's in love with me. "My mum's dead, you bloody prat."

"I _know._ Merlin. She was a Visiting, Baz. You know, when the Veil lif-"

"Crowley, Snow, I know what a damn Visiting is. But why did she come to you instead of me?"

"She thought you would be here, but you weren't, so she gave me her message."

 **SIMON**

Baz is sitting up at this point, his normal feigned indifference gone with the prospect of a message from his mother. "And?" he demands. "What was the message?"

This is where I hesitate. Obviously, I'm going to tell him about Nicodemus, but. . .the kiss. His mum had told me to give Baz a kiss. Will I? I mean, it's not like he'll know if I don't, but that small bit of comfort might be nice.

"Snow. The message?" Baz snaps, interrupting my thoughts.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. So. . ." As I tell him about Nicodemus, I continue to ponder my choice. To kiss Baz, or not to kiss Baz? It's not like I particularly want to or anything, I mean, I'm not gay. I think. Maybe. Baz _is_ slightly attractive. Okay, he's really, really attractive.

"Is that all?"

Fuck. Now I have to make a decision, and I have to make it fast.

"Umm. . . . . ."

 **BAZ**

Okay, who the hell is Nicodemus? Apparently, he killed my mother, which means that I am hunting the son of a bitch down. No questions there. I just wish I had more information. And Snow, the (adorable) idiot, is just sitting there going, "Umm. . . . .. "

"Snow. Is that all or not?"

". . . .not quite." For some unknown reason, Snow sounds almost. . .nervous. What one earth did my mum say?

"Well, what is i-" I stop talking when Snow rises from his bed, crosses to mine in two quick steps, and very, very briefly, touches his lips to my temple.

 **SIMON**

Holy shit, I'm doing this. I'm actually kissing Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Sure, it's just a gentle peck on his forehead, but my lips are still touching him. The moment is over almost as soon as it begins, and I pull away, the fiery blush lighting my cheeks probably visible even in the darkness of our room.

"What the hell, Snow?" Baz's voice is cold and hard.

"Um, well, that was the last part of the message," I babble, hoping to minimize the damage that I have surely just caused. "Your mum told me to kiss you, so I figured that I should, and sorry if I pissed you off, and-"

"Stop." There's no magic in Baz's voice, but I listen anyway. "My mum told you to kiss me, and you actually _did?_ Crowley, Snow, are you queer?"

"Well, uh, maybe?"

 **BAZ**

Simon fucking Snow did _not_ just admit that he might be queer. No, I couldn't be that lucky. . .could I?

"Uh, great. But _still-_ did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, the person who has been trying to kill you since you met might not be receptive to you spontaneously kissing them?" I ask, giving off my usual air of irritation. _And did you ever think that that same person might be hopelessly in love with you?_

"No, not exactly, it's jus-"

"It's just what? Did you actually fucking think that I would want to kiss you, Snow?" I stand and face him, causing us to be practically nose to nose in the dark.

"Uh, well, I don-"

"And did you really think that you could just kiss me and then act like it never happened?" I'm so emotionally wound up right now, with the kiss and Snow's confession, and the message from my mother and just everything that I almost raise a fist in anger before remembering the Anathema. I'm a complete mess right now, honestly.

"Well, I uh, it's just, um-"

"Would you just _shut up_?" I demand, And he does. Oh, yes, Simon Snow most definitely shuts up. After all, talking isn't exactly easily when your (former?) nemesis has just furiously pressed his lips against yours.

 **SIMON**

Baz's cool lips are on mine and my head is spinning and _fuck_ I guess I am gay because, Merlin, this is heaven.

Without really even thinking about it, I bring my hands up to cup Baz's cold cheeks. I was surprised by his action at first, but now I just capitulate to the pleasure. Baz winds his pale arms around my neck and pulls me flush against him. I moan slightly at the feeling of his lithe body pressed to mine, and Baz takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth.

The taste of Baz is something like cool mint and an unnameable spice. It's absolutely intoxicating. I push my tongue back against his, getting gloriously drunk on the amazing feeling that is kissing Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.

 **BAZ**

This kiss is nothing but _heat._ Snow's lips, tongue, hands, chest-they're all burning, and I'm flammable. But so is everyone else, so I don't care. If I burn, I'd burn happily if it meant that I got to keep kissing Simon Snow. Of course, I don't know if that will be possible after we inevitably break apart, so I make sure that I give this kiss _everything._

Every affectionate thought, every passionate daydream, and every infatuated sigh are communicated to Snow through the elegant language of our lips. Our kiss is messy and passionate and wild and _hot._

Snow is still wearing his bloody cross necklace and it's burning into my collarbone somewhere, but I don't care. All I care about is this beautiful moment, the moment that I've been dreaming about for countless years.

Eventually, though, we have to break apart to breathe, and we both just stand there, breath ragged and arms still holding each other.

"Baz?" Snow breathes. "Please tell me that this is happening again."

"Fuck yeah, it is," I reply, bringing my lips to his again and pushing him back onto his bed. The rest of the night is spent in flaming passion, and I've never been happier.

 _Fin._


End file.
